


Of Dark Nights And Sunshine

by Curious_Wanderer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is 20, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Returns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curious_Wanderer/pseuds/Curious_Wanderer
Summary: "You must miss him...""Terribly."ORPeter is struggling to cope with Tony's death but he finds an unlikely refuge in Steve Rogers.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker/Steve Rogers
Comments: 6
Kudos: 100





	1. Nightfall

**Author's Note:**

> This is a three part series. Stick around till the end :)

The night was setting in; evening light giving way to the creeping darkness. Not that it mattered to New York, which was putting on its own show of a million twinkling lights. There will be no nightfall in the city that never sleeps. It was a beautiful sight to see really. Especially from the vantage point of the spear of the Empire State Building. 

But Peter didn’t feel like marveling at the spectacle. He would much rather the darkness engulfed everything around him and made him invisible.

It had been a difficult few months since Tony’s funeral. The sadness pervaded his very soul and wouldn't go away no matter how much time passed. People around him were sympathetic at first. But then they moved on. He was expected to do the same, only he couldn’t. He was constantly drowning, unable to breathe while the world around him went about it’s way, uncaring, undisturbed. It infuriated him to no end.

Peter descended from the spear to the observatory. It provided a nice view of the roof of the building in front where a trade was about to happen, or so they were told. Captain was waiting there, keeping an eye on the roof as well as Peter. He was always to be accompanied by a functioning adult (or a "designated babysitter" as Maria Hill had put it) on all missions since he sent two hydra suspects to hospital with multiple fractures instead of the interrogation facility in a fit of rage. This unwanted intrusion was only making it difficult for him to hide the fact that he still burst into tears for no fucking reason without warning and had occasional panic attacks that made him feel like he was going to die and left him curled up on the floor in a useless heap. The minute they found out, they were going to bench him.

Although he hated all his supervisors, he disliked the captain the least. His company was more tolerable and if it was his lucky day, even pleasant. The feeling must've been mutual too because Steve seemed to take on the job every time he wasn't out of town. In the beginning, Peter was just glad that Steve didn't give him the look of pity that he had come to expect from everyone - the look one gives to a kicked puppy - reminding him of his loss again and again and driving him crazy. But as time went by, he had actually come to enjoy the captain's presence. At any rate, he was glad that it was Steve Rogers meddling in his business than anyone else.

“Enjoying the view?” Cap greeted him.  
“It’s alright… Any movement on the roof?"  
"No not yet."  
"They are an hour late. Since when did Hydra become so tardy??"  
"Be patient. They'll be here."  
"How do you know?"  
"I trust the intel."  
"Maybe it was bad intel."  
"No it wasn't."  
"You don't know that! "  
"Yes I do."  
"We should call it off. They're not coming"  
_"Kid, I've been dealin' with Hydra since before you were born so sit down, shut up and keep your eyes open."_  
"Okay okay jeez Mr Rogers calm down"

Turned out, Cap was right. The agents did show up - two hours later than expected.

It was supposed to be a fairly simple task - ambush the trade, recover the stolen equipment and send the captured agents to the underground SHIELD facility in Manhattan. But things went awry right from the start. As soon as he descended on the roof, Peter sensed that something was horribly wrong. He expected to make swift work of the two men. Instead, he found himself surrounded by five Hydra agents, armed to the teeth with what looked like sophisticated weapons, clearly lying in wait for him.  
He hadn't set the ambush, he had walked into one.

Never in his life had Peter been more glad to be accompanied by his babysitter.

The men surrounding him didn't hear it but his super-senses caught the unmistakable whistle of the captain's shield when it flew past him and lodged itself into the chest of the agent in front of him. Before anyone could react, captain jumped on one of the men and took him down. It was a complete blur after that, bullets, webs and the shield flying every which way. 

Peter acted solely on instinct, largely because his conscious mind was locked into a flashback.  
Sound of bullets being fired.. rocks shattering under pressure.. blood.. the infinity stones glowing in their gauntlet.. "half of humanity will still be alive".. blood.. the shield finding its target, making a sickening snap.. more blood.. the sinking feeling of his body dissolving into thin air…

What brought him back to reality was a resounding punch to the temple that sent him flying into the air for a good few feet before he landed on the gravel. Captain took care of the last man standing and was swiftly by his side, helping him on his feet.  
"You OK kid? What the hell happened there?"  
"Nothing nothing.. I got a little distracted that's all.. I'm fine Cap."  
"No you're not actually. You're bleeding."

For the first time, Peter registered the sharp pain on the side of his head where the agent had punched him. He felt the site and it was wet. The man must have been wearing some augmentation on his fist because whatever it was, it had torn through the suit and broken his skin.

"Oh.. I didn't notice. It's alright. I heal fast. I'll be good as new in the morning."  
"It's going to leave an ugly scar if we don't patch it up properly. Let's get you to the tower and-  
"NO. No not the tower. I'll be fine Mr Rogers I swear. Let me just rest a little okay?"  
"Peter, I'm not letting you go without taking a look at that wound."  
"Fine, just anywhere but the tower…"  
Captain raised a puzzled eyebrow but relented. "Alright, there's a safe house in Brooklyn. We'll go there. It has supplies to fix you up."  
"Great. Let's go."

After handing over the mess on the roof to a SHIELD team, they took off.

The safe house was in a nice neighborhood, not fancy but not very shady either.  
Inside, the apartment was sparsely decorated, but still managed to pass off as pretty. 

As Steve went inside to get the medical kit, Peter stood in the living room, not knowing where to go or what to do. He explored the strangely empty looking living room and kitchen. It was clear that it was once a fully furnished, modern flat but had since been stripped of most of its non essential decor, the remnants of which were still visible in the yet untouched kitchen, which still had all the fancy gadgets an amateur chef would need to play around.

And then he saw it - a sketchbook, lying on the dining table. It looked old too, worn out with loose pages sticking out from all directions. He picked it up. The cardboard felt worse for wear. He flipped it open and suddenly he was looking into the eyes of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes…

It must have been a different time when the portrait was drawn because he was actually smiling. Oh - and he also had both of his original arms. He was sitting at the window, looking at Peter, or whoever drew him. Warm eyes, filled with adoration and a gentle smile. He looked so… content; without a care in the world. So full of life. It was hard to believe that Peter had encountered the same man just a few short months ago, a broken thing, a shadow of what he apparently used to be…

"It was a happier time…"

Peter almost jumped out of his suit. Cap was standing in the entrance of the living room, behind him.

"Oh hey Mr Rogers, sorry I - I didn't mean to spy I just got curious…"  
"It's alright. I don't mind." Captain said with a reassuring smile.

"When was this?"  
"Before the war… as I said, it was a happier time. More difficult, sure, but still things were good. _We_ were good""  
"He looks so…  
"Not winter soldier?" Steve said what Peter didn't want to. It was true. There was no trace of the murderous assassin Peter had come to know in the person staring back at him so fondly.

"This is not a safe house is it? It's _your_ house"  
"Yeah. Now let's take a look at that" cap said pointing to his wound. "Come with me"

Peter followed him to the bathroom where medical supplies were set on the counter.  
"Get up there," Steve said and he obeyed, setting himself up beside the kit.  
"This will sting a little" he warned Peter and with a delicate hand, started to clean the wound with an antiseptic swab.  
The wound had already started to heal but it was going to leave a scar in the gash if it wasn't sutured properly.  
He took out the sutures.  
"Wait wait wait… you're not actually sewing me up are you?  
"Of course! Who else is here?"  
_"No Way! Absolutely not! I'm not letting you touch my face with that thing!!!"_ Peter said pointing to the curved needle in Steve's hand.  
"Hey, I tried to send you to a proper facility but you didn't wanna. Now be quiet and let me work."

Steve set the suturing set on the counter and rummaged through the bag till he found a vial of clear liquid and a disposable syringe and needle.  
_"What the hell is that??!!"_ New terror gripped Peter.  
"Calm down ya big baby, it's the anesthetic. You want me to sew you up just like that??"  
Steve took the liquid in vial into the syringe and injected it into several spots around the wound. Almost immediately, Peter felt the stinging in his temple go numb. He relaxed a little. Then Steve took the needle and sutures out of their packet and got to work.

He was quite adept at the task, to Peter's surprise.  
"You're good at this Mr Rogers" he said with a hint of admiration in his voice.  
"Thank you" Steve replied with a smile.  
"Where did you learn?"  
"Bucky taught me… I used to get in trouble all the time. It always fell on him to patch me up. By the time we were shipped to Europe, he had become quite a seamstress" Steve said with a chuckle.  
"Of course, we didn't have anything fancy back then. Mostly just the things you could find around the house. But he always managed to do the job. He actually taught all the howling commandos how to tend to wounds."  
"Why?!"  
"Well, you never knew when would be the next time you saw a doctor on the battlefield.  
When he got back, his psychiatrists wanted him to take up some new activity to get his mind off of things, so he took up knitting."  
"What!!?? Oh my god!"  
"I know," Steve said with a laugh "it helped him keep himself grounded. He was actually getting quite good at it too, before… well, you know…"

Peter did know. Just a month or so after Tony's funeral, he got the news of Bucky's breakdown and the rampage he went on in the newly built Avengers compound. Thankfully, the AI running the facility contained him before he could hurt anyone but he still did considerable damage. He was shipped to Wakanda that very night to spend some time in cryosleep until they could figure out how to deprogram him; god knew how long that was going to take.

They both fell quiet for some time after that. The only sound was the needle entering and exiting the skin and sutures being cut.

"You must miss him…"

_"Terribly."_


	2. Chapter 2

He was standing by the casket, looking in. He could see Tony's face, half burnt by the stones and contorted into a perverse mask of horror. The smell of charred flesh was overpowering his senses, making him dizzy. He gripped the edge of the casket to steady himself and as soon as he did, Tony opened his eyes and lunged at him…

Peter woke up with a start. He was not in his room. But his disorientation quickly resolved when the events of the last night came rushing back to him.

Cap had graciously offered him the guest room to spend the night after patching him up and he was too drained to argue.

He saw the wall clock over the door in front of him.  
_"Who the hell keeps pendulum clocks anymore???..."_  
It was six in the morning. He might as well sneak out now. There was no point in going back to sleep. He didn't want a rerun of tonight's reel of nightmares. And besides, five solid hours of sleep was already more than what he was getting these days.

He got up, grabbed the spider suit, tucked it in his backpack and left the room trying to be as light-footed as possible, which wasn't difficult, all things considered.

"Mornin' "  
Peter whipped his head around, trying to locate the source of the sound.  
Captain was standing behind him in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in his hand. He hadn't turned on the lights. Faint light of dawn was enough for both of their eyes.

"Oh hey.. good morning Cap. Didn't see you there. Did you go for a run?" He could see the sheen of sweat on Steve's forehead in the dim light.

"Yeah, just got back. You want something? Coffee? Tea? _Hot chocolate?"_ Cap said in a teasing voice, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly.  
"Ugh, I would _kill_ for a hot chocolate right no-- … did I just say that out loud?..."  
"Yes. Yes you did" Cap was trying and failing to suppress a smile. He turned around, searching the kitchen cabinets.  
"One hot chocolate, coming right up."

__"Mr Rogers please, no, you don't have to--  
"Sit down."  
"Okay"  
Peter took a seat at the kitchen island and Steve got to work.  
This was violently embarrassing but if he was being honest, he really needed the mug full of steaming sugary liquid that Steve handed to him. The warm and sweet milk momentarily made him forget everything that was wrong with his life when it made its way down his throat._ _

__They sat in silence for some time, sipping their drinks.  
Peter looked around the well equipped kitchen, seemingly out of place with the almost quaint looking rest of the apartment.  
“Well I must say I’m surprised to see the kitchen so modern” he said smiling.  
“How did it escape your passion for hundred-year-old things Cap?”  
Steve chuckled “Bucky likes to cook. Or liked to, before the war. I thought maybe it will be a good way for him to get in touch with himself again.”  
“Wow… I didn’t know that! They don’t tell you these things at the Smithsonian”  
“Yeah well, they don’t tell you a lot of things.”_ _

__Peter knew what he meant. To the rest of the world, Bucky was still a Hydra assassin, serving his time in SHIELD prison. In reality, he was doing their dirty work that SHIELD deemed too risky for other more ‘valuable’ agents. Those were the terms of his freedom. Peter suspected that the things they made him do had played some part in his eventual breakdown because he blew up shortly after another one of his secretive missions._ _

__“What about you? What do you do to get in touch with your old self?” Peter asked.  
Steve laughed “I _am_ my old self kid. The world has changed. Not me. But to answer your question, “ he nodded towards the sketchbook still lying on the kitchen island from the previous night.  
“Oh yes of course. They did tell me about that at the Smithsonian. May I?”  
“Sure”_ _

__Peter took the sketchbook and opened it. It was filled with pages after pages of people in Steve’s life, past and present.  
Most were Bucky’s, predictably.  
Many were old -- Bucky sitting by the window; working on the docks; cooking; sprawled out on bed..  
And some new -- hunched in a corner of some dungeon, metal arm glinting in the flashlight; piloting an aircraft; taking aim out of the rifle scope; sitting in a chair, knitting, and another one with him sitting in the window, but this time, with a very different energy about him, as if all the vitality of old Bucky had been sucked out, leaving only darkness and despair in its place._ _

__There were other people too. Sam in his falcon suit, Wanda and Vision staring at each other fondly, no doubt communicating in their unique wordless manner, Captain Marvel soaring through space in all her radiant glory, and BAM--_ _

__It was as if pain physically hit Peter like a baseball bat to the chest. It was Tony’s sketch. He was in his usual boyish clothes, his face stained with grease. His daughter was on the table in front of him, barely a toddler back then. She was painting his face with the said grease with all the artistic talent a three year old could muster. There were machines all around, must’ve been in his lab. And he was laughing. _Laughing_. He looked younger, without the weight of the world on his shoulders. How Peter wished he had gotten to know that Tony Stark…_ _

__He didn’t even notice when the tears started streaming down his cheeks. It felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room to breathe. Black clouds started dotting his peripheral vision. He knew he was having a panic attack but it was too late to do anything now. The weight of the sadness was crushing him._ _

__He felt Steve move around the table and come to him. He took Peter in his arms and held him close, whispering comforting words that he couldn’t comprehend in the haze of the attack._ _

__“It’s okay, it’s okay. You're okay. Just breathe. Focus on my breathing. Breath in, breathe out. Slow and steady. Breathe in… breathe out. That’s it. It’s alright. Everything's gonna be alright.”_ _

__Peter tried to focus on Steve’s heartbeat, strong and steady. Its rhythmic thumping reverberating in his own rib cage, tethering him to reality._ _

__He knew that his life as an active SHIELD agent was now over for many days to come. He could at least expect a thorough psychiatric evaluation and a months long break from the field. There was no way Steve wasn't going to report what had just happened. He would be an idiot not to._ _

__But he was still glad that someone was there to get him through this ordeal. No- he was glad that _Steve_ was there to get him through this ordeal. Suffering it alone over and over again was proving to be more than what he could handle. It was chipping away at his soul, taking a piece of it each time he broke down._ _

__Steve held him for a long time after he stopped sobbing and Peter didn’t want him to let go. Panic attacks left him a mess and he always had to pick up the pieces alone. He didn’t want to do that today. He felt safe, and cared for, like he hadn’t in a long time. He instinctively put his arms around Steve’s waist, pulling him closer into the awkward hug and to his relief, Steve readily complied, tightening his own embrace.  
They stayed like that for quite some time. _ _

__Steve took a seat next to him. They sat in silence, holding hands._ _

__“As a man who left his world behind, I’ve had my fair share of goodbyes and each one of them has been just as painful as the last. I know what you feel Peter. I know it feels like your world has ended and there is nothing left to live for. But I want you to know that this will end. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that no matter how bad our losses, life can be good again.”_ _

__“I miss him so much… I can’t take it anymore…” Peter’s voice was hoarse and shaky._ _

__“I know. I know. I do too. It hurts to even think of him. But tomorrow, it will hurt a little less, and the day after, a little less still till one day, there will be nothing left but good memories you shared together. You just have to let life do its work. There are people around you, who care for you, who you can depend on. Don’t turn your back on them. You don’t have to suffer this alone. We are all here for you. I just want you to know that.”_ _

__Peter gave him a small smile “I know. Thanks Cap”  
“Anytime kid”_ _

__“Are you going to report this to agent Hill?” Peter asked, hoping against hope.  
“Peter, you know I have to.”  
“But I can handle myself.”  
“The way you handled yourself last night? No. I can’t risk it. You’re not safe in the field.”_ _

__Peter knew there was no arguing with the Captain._ _

__“I can, however, defer the psychiatric evaluation if you want. But you will still have to take a long break from the field and keep in constant contact with someone on the team.”  
“Really!? Oh yes thank you thank you thank you. I'll do whatever you want just don’t make me sit in front of a shrink.”  
_“Constant contact with the team.”_ Captain repeated himself, “No running around behind our backs being the friendly neighborhood spiderman. That crap stops today.”  
“Not even the neighborhood? C’mon cap I’m not that unstable!!”  
“Oh I’m happy to confirm that. Let’s schedule the first Psych eval today. I’ll call Hill--”  
“--okay okay fine. No friendly neighborhood spiderman.”  
“Good. Now run along. I have some calls to make.You’ll receive the next orders by afternoon.”  
“Alright. See ya.” Peter picked up his backpack and got up.  
“Hey…” Steve called him just as he was about to leave the apartment.  
“Yes Cap?”  
“Take care of yourself okay? And this house is open to you. You can drop in anytime you want. I’ll be here.” Steve’s voice was tinged with worry and affection.  
“Sure thing! You take care too Mr Rogers.” Peter closed the door behind him. _ _

__These were going to be the most boring few months of his life._ _


	3. I'm Almost Me Again, He's Almost You...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a big Hozier fan and I though Steve falling for Peter is a lot like Hozier's song "Almost". Listen to the song before you read this chapter. It's ok if you don't because the song lyrics are a part of the story so you will read the relevant lyrics anyway. But I recommend getting a feel of that melody because that adds a dimension to the story and also because the song is freaking amazing! :)
> 
> Enjoy...

As promised, the next orders arrived in the afternoon and as expected, Peter was to take a break from the field work for the next two months. He was also ordered to meet with the captain every week starting next week for the entirety of his break - the cost of his exemption from psych eval. He would take it. Anything was better than sitting in front of a shrink and telling him _"how stuff made him feel"._

And if he was being honest, he had come to enjoy Cap’s company more than he expected. So the thought of spending every weekend with him wasn’t as terrible as it would have been a month ago. He could always ditch if he got bored. And besides, stuff was always happening around the globe. It’s not like Cap was going to pause his life to be in New York for the whole month.

##### I'll be in New York for the whole month I've delegated my assignments You can come anytime you want.

##### Great! Thanks cap :)

##### Anytime kid

Peter threw away the phone and collapsed on the bed. This was not going to go his way.

And so there he was, staring at the door of the captain’s apartment, low key dreading what was to come.  
It was a little embarrassing and uncomfortable to face him again after what had happened the last time they met.  
The door opened before he could knock. Steve must have heard him arrive and stand there like an idiot...

“Hey Cap”  
“Come on in” he gestured to Peter.

Peter followed him inside and plopped on the sofa.  
“You want anything to drink?”  
“Nah I’m good.”  
“Alright”

Steve took a seat on the sofa beside him.  
Despite the carefully constructed informal setting, Peter couldn't help but feel like he was being closely observed, just like in a shrink's office.

"Soo… what's up cap?" He started tentatively. "Anything interesting happening in life?" 

Steve chuckled. "I've had my fill of interesting. I'm a boring man now."

"Oh I find that hard to believe! Don't be so humble. A badass like you is never going to settle for a boring life. Is it something secret? I bet the director has you tangled in a dozen cool super secret missions right now. C'mon just tell me something mind-blowing. The boredom is killing me."

Steve smiled a warm smile. "Well, if you insist, but you didn't hear this from me."

Peter made an action of zipping his lips. He was glad the conversation had taken a turn away from him.

"I am currently handling an important assignment right here in New York. Cultivating an asset."  
"Now we're talking. Who is it? Do they have powers? But I've never heard about anything out of the ordinary going on in the city.”

Steve put one leg over the cushion and turned to face Peter.  
“Well he is just a kid really. Barely twenty one. I got tasked with bringing him into the fold several months ago. He’s a good kid. A great kid actually. But he’s going through some rough time… So he needs help.”

Peter’s excitement slowly faded and gave way to the all too familiar heaviness in his chest.  
“Are you sure he needs help? Maybe he just wants to be left alone.”

“Oh I wish I could. He is running into trouble with my bosses and they are not too happy about it. I’ve gotten an earful more than once.”  
“Then cut him loose. He is more trouble than he’s worth.”  
“I can’t”  
“Why not?”  
“Well you see, I’ve come to care about him. And I worry about him so, so much that every time I look at him my heart hurts. I wish he would just let me in.”

Peter averted his gaze. “Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like what you see.”

“I doubt that. He is one of the most loyal, fearless and the kindest people I’ve ever known. He is a treasure to me. And I will never give up on him. _Ever."_

“You think too highly of him…” His voice was on the verge of breaking.

There were a few moments of absolute silence between them.

Steve gently reached out and took hold of his chin, nudging him to look him in the eye and held his gaze. “He thinks too little of himself.”

He wiped away a tear spilling from his eye with his thumb. “If only he could see what I see…”

Peter leaned down and rested his head on Steve’s lap. He was too drained to think or say anything so he just let himself drift away, feeling Steve’s hand gently running through his hair.

When it was time to go, he got up and stretched. At the door, he turned around and gave Steve a hug.  
“Thank you.” he whispered into his chest.  
“Anytime kid” Steve put his arms around him. “I’ll see you next week?”  
“You will see me next week.”

And so they continued, week after week. It became a part of Peter’s routine. Wake up, go to college, come home, get bored, get frustrated that he couldn’t do what he was supposed to do, and unload all of it on Steve on weekends.

But these were more than just venting sessions. By and by, colour was returning to his grey world. Every morning, it was a little easier to get out of bed than yesterday. And every day, the thought of Tony hurt less and less.  
He was beginning to actually look forward to their meetups. It felt good to talk to Steve, to be close to him. 

He was also beginning to notice things that he didn’t before, much to his embarrassment - like the colour of his eyes, his lips, the contour of his shoulders under the shirt, the brilliant smile he flashed that made his heart flutter…  
It was getting harder to not let his mind wander off into his newfound appreciation of Steve and Steve wasn’t helping with his eagerness at physical proximity. The hugs, the pats and caresses were doing nothing to abate the butterflies in his stomach.

Before he knew it, it was the last weekend of his mandated sessions. He never thought he could be so sad about not getting to meet Steve Rogers every week.

They had stayed up talking just about any random thing till the early morning hours, neither of them wanting the conversation to end.  
“You must be excited; don’t have to suffer me on a weekly basis anymore.”  
“Oh… yeah… real excited…” Peter didn’t sound convincing to his own ears.  
“You don’t have to pretend for me, kid. I’ll get over it.” Steve said with a smile. “So what do you wanna do now?”  
“No idea… you tell me.”  
“Okay. Let’s dance.”  
_"What?"_  
“Let’s dance!”  
_"Why??"_  
“Because I’m happy.”  
“Why?”  
“Because you are happy!”  
“But why dance???”  
“Why not?”  
“Because I can’t?”  
“Doesn’t matter. C’mon” Steve put on his playlist and extended a hand to Peter.

It was some thousand year old song that Peter was sure even his grandpa was too young to know. He reluctantly took Steve’s hand and joined him at the center of the living room. He suddenly became aware of how close they were. He could feel Steve’s breath over his face.

The song had a nice rhythm but between the two of them, they had none. They were an embarrassing mess of flailing hands and toes stepping on toes. Peter had never laughed so much in his life. His sides were starting to hurt.

“You are _so_ bad at this…” he got the words out in between the fits of laughter  
“I know. Bucky tried to teach me but he gave up.”  
“Yeah I can see why”  
“Well you’re no prize yourself kid. Glass houses much?”

Peter was going to give some witty retort but he was interrupted by the change of song. A very familiar guitar riff filled the room and his eyes went wide with surprise.  
“Wait a minute!!! What the fuck!!!”  
_"Language"_ Steve chided him.  
He rolled his eyes and continued “You know this song? How do you know this song?”  
It was Hozier’s Almost.  
“Well I like the guy”  
“You like Hozier??? I like Hozier!! How do you even know him?”  
“I get around you know. He has an old soul. I like how he pours it into his music.”

They were just swinging while holding each other now. Letting the sweet melody guide their movements. Steve had stopped laughing. Instead, he was staring into Peter’s eyes with an unfamiliar intensity, holding his gaze.

Hozier was singing with a honeyed tongue, as he always did-

> The same kind of music  
>  Haunts her bedroom  
>  I’m almost me again  
>  She’s almost you

Peter could feel his heartbeat quicken. He was feeling uncomfortably warm and yet he wanted to be even closer to the man holding him. He could feel the grip over his hips tighten a little.

> I wouldn't know where to start  
>  Sweet music playing in the dark  
>  Be still my foolish heart  
>  Don’t ruin this on me

Peter gave a tentative smile to Steve, but he didn't smile back. He just held his gaze and moved his hands from Peter’s hips to cup his face. He had a grave look on his face, full of doubt and fear, but also desire. Peter waited for him to do whatever the hell he wanted to do, too paralysed to move. Too afraid to hope, too afraid to act. 

> I’ve got some colour back  
>  She thinks so too  
>  I laugh like me again  
>  She laughs like you
> 
> I wouldn’t know where to start  
>  Sweet music playing in the dark  
>  Be still my foolish heart  
>  Don’t ruin this on me

Steve finally leaned in, after what felt like an eternity, and when their lips touched, Peter felt as if fireworks went off inside his chest. After a moment of delirious confusion, he returned the kiss, encircling Steve's neck and pulling him closer. He could feel Steve’s racing heartbeat, matching his own.  
When Steve pulled away, Peter raised his chin as much as he could to maintain the contact between their lips. He could see the hesitation on the man’s face. He looked like he was waking up from a dream, coming to his senses. He tried to let go of Peter but Peter wouldn’t let him, his neck locked into the boy’s deceptively slender arms.

After a moment of silent protestations, Peter finally got his way and Steve gave into another kiss, this time with more fervour, more desire and more passion.

There was no turning back now, not that Peter wanted to. He felt like a man stranded in the desert, finally finding his oasis.

Outside, the sunrise was spectacular, casting a brilliant show of yellow, orange and red in the sky.  
On the ground, beside the sidewalk, a solitary daffodil was peeking out from under the snow - as if a harbinger of rebirth - proclaiming that the winter had ended, spring had arrived and the earth was ready to be reborn, once again.


End file.
